By Your Side: The Sorcerer's Stone
by paperaeroplanesfly
Summary: To be a great friend, you stick together through everything. Even if it means breaking about 50 school rules. Theodora Langley learned this the hard way, befriending Harry Potter out of all people.
1. Introduction: Owls

**Hello! This is my first ever attempt of writing an actual fanfiction! If you like it, then thank you very much for your support! If you don't, then go away, and don't hate!**

**Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter is absolutely not mine. I wish it was though. I need J.K. Rowling's imagination and writing skills. Like seriously. I only own Theodora and Owen Langley.**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

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Soft golden beams of light fell down gently on Tuddlesmith Grove, a small town that was completely normal in just about every single way. Rows of beige colored houses with dark brown roofs made up the entire village. The dads were mowing the lawns, the mums were making lemonade, and the kids were splashing around in the mud, wanting their last moments of the summer holidays to be memorable.

However, there was one family that was particularly different than the other Tuddlesmith residents. A man and his daughter, who unlike others, lived in a light yellow house with a bright scarlet roof top, that was perched on top of a tall, grassy hill. They were isolated from society surely, but the magnificent view of the sun blazing over the horizon was worth it.

Actually, there was another reason for their separation. The odd family up on the hill had magical powers. The man, Owen Langley, was a wizard. And his daughter, Theodora, was a witch. The two were currently at their owl ranch, a family business that trained owls to deliver mail; the usual way of communication in the magical world.

"It's been two weeks since I've seen Flo," Theodora said. "I don't think she's ready for flights over sea yet."

"Alright," Owen agreed, scribbling down notes with his quill. "Let's get someone to help her."

She nodded, heading over to the more experienced owls, stopping at Rolan.

"Hello," she petted the Langley's family owl. "I need your help again. Do you mind finding Flo?"

He nipped her finger affectionately, before spreading his wings, and taking the cerulean skies.

Theodora smiled and walked through the farm, writing down all the progress of each owl as she passed by. After a few minutes, she heard a familiar cry.

"Hedwig?" she asked, spotting a blur of white flapping her wings, as she gracefully landed on an owl stand.

"Back already? That trip was all the way to Australia!" Theodora awed. "And it's only been a few weeks!"

The owl only hooted, flying onto her shoulder, nuzzling her caretaker's cheek.

"I'm very impressed. You think you're ready for the real deal?" she asked.

Hedwig cooed, nodding her head. Giggling, Theodora drew a star next to Hedwig's name on her chart.

"Okay," she said. "Let me pick up some other owls, and then we'll all go to Diagon Alley."

Diagon Alley was literally an alley where wizards and witches shop for robes, supplies, broomsticks, and more! It was also the home of Eeylops Owl Emporium, a regular customer of her family's business: Langley's Owl Training.

After selecting a batch of newly trained owls, Theodora went inside her house, with a flock of birds behind her.

"Dad!" she called.

Owen immediately came into sight, with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with him.

"Yes darlin'?" he asked, with his mouth full.

Theodora scrunched up her nose is disgust.

"You know how I feel about talking with your mouth open," she sighed. "And if you wanted lunch, you could've just asked me instead of eating that rubbish. We have just enough tomato sauce for some pasta."

"Theo," he grumbled. "I'm a full grown man. I don't need my own kid cooking food for me."

"Please don't call me Theo," she cringed. "Anyways, I got this month's shipment."

Owen gulped his lunch down, nodding. "Right. Who's going?"

"Shadow. Nut. Leon. Hedwig. And Todd." she said.

"Okay," he crossed off their names off his list. "Let's go and drop them off at Eeylops."

"I know the drill," Theodora picked up the bowl of Floo powder that was sitting casually on the table. "Did you put them into the cages, yet?"

"Doing it now." Owen locked Todd in, much to the tan owl's displeasure.

Taking Hedwig and Nut's cages, Theodora balanced them in one hand, a palm dull of magical dust in the other. Standing underneath the fireplace, she cleared her throat.

"Diagon Alley!" her voice was loud and clear.

An overwhelming sensation washed over her like a tidal wave, as her vision was blinded by green flames of fire. A few seconds of stomach-churning and dizzying swirls later, she felt her feet hit the ground.

"I'll never get used to that." Theodora swallowed, stepping into the Leaky Cauldron, the local pub.

"Tell me about it," Owen's voice perked up from behind her. "You should experience apparating then. It's awful."

The two carried their owls outside and into the crowd of magical families, who were shopping last minute for the new school year.

Theodora spotted Eeylops Owl Emporium immediately, squeezing through the mass of people. "Come on, Dad!"

A loud bell rang throughout the emporium as she opened the doors. Placing the cages onto the front desk, she looked around for their favorite customer.

"Eeylops?" Owen asked, his deep voice echoing through the room.

It was quiet until Theodora heard a slight ruckus in the back. Curious, she followed the noise, coming face to face with a familiar half-giant.

"Hagrid!" she greeted, happily. "It's so great to see you!"

"Well, if it ain't little Theodora. How are yeh doin'?" he patted his massive hand on her head, ruffling her short, light blonde waves.

"I'm good. You know, working at the ranch," she rolled her eyes. "As usual."

"Eh," he chuckled. "Well've yeh done a good job."

Before Theodora could thank him, Owen came up behind her. "That's my daughter, alright."

Turning around, she beamed, noticing her dad's companion. "Eeylops!"

The man smiled at her, fondly. "More owls, I see? How lovely. Especially that snowy owl."

"Hedwig? Yeah, she absolutely smashed the test runs."

"And she'll be a great acquaintance for a young wizard, won't she Hagrid?"

Theodora's gaze snapped to Hagrid, the half-giant smiling proudly.

"I've been, eh, lookin' for an owl for a special someone who's goin' to school with yeh this year, Theodora. It's his birthday today." he explained.

"Aw," she cooed. "That's really nice of you. He'll love Hedwig, I promise."

"Based on yer work, Theodora, I don't doubt yeh for one second!"

The group went back to the front, where the owls were. Theodora pushed the black cage with Hedwig in it, to the front.

"Hello," she said to the owl. "This is Hagrid. He's been thinking of giving you to a boy as a birthday gift."

The bird nodded at him as a greeting. Hagrid, with stars in his eyes, threw his hands up in the air, almost knocking over the chandelier.

"I'll take her! She's perfect!"

With a few galleons spent, Theodora was now saying goodbye to her beloved friend. Tears gathered in her large caramel eyes as her bottom lip quivered. She shook her head, feeling childish. It was just an owl! But the bird's shining eyes made Theodora lose her composure. She just loved her owls so much!

"Thank you for behaving so well," she sniffed, kissing Hedwig on the top of her head. "You'll be great. I'll miss you."

Hedwig cuddled into her neck as Theodora choked down her cries. Hagrid, with a bitter smile, took the bird away from her.

"Bye, Hedwig. Bye, Hagrid. And tell that boy I say happy birthday, okay?" she asked, her face all blotchy and red.

"Of course I will," Hagrid assured. "See yeh at Hogwarts, Theodora." he said his last words, leaving the store.

"There, there." Eeylops comforted. "You'll see her again at school, remember?"

"Right." she breathed shakily, pulling herself together.

Owen and Theodora waited, as they gave him the owl records of the other ones they had trained, with Eeylops paying them some money in exchange.

"Goodbye, Eeylops!" she said as Owen and her left.

They strolled back to the Leaky Cauldron. Theodora spotted Hagrid and gave him one more farewell with the wave of her hand as she headed to the fireplaces. Ducking her head, the feeling of butterflies attacking her stomach came back, as she felt herself leaving the pub.

The last thing Theodora saw before green flames of Floo powder bursted out like fireworks, was a boy.

And his emerald eyes were even more striking than the fire washing over her.


	2. The Hogwarts Express

**Hello! Theodora finally meets some of J.K. Rowling's wonderful characters!**

**Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter is still not mine. But I still wish it was.**

**Warning: It's a bit of a filler, honestly. **

**Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

"It's fine," Theodora sighed. "Just go on. The Minister of Magic's waiting for you."

"Yeah," Owen frowned at his daughter. "Don't forget to write, okay?"

She nodded, pushing her heavy trolley further into King's Cross Station. A scowl appeared on her face as she held out her ticket.

"Nine and three-quarters." she muttered, staring at the barrier in between platforms nine and ten.

Theodora looked blankly at the brick wall in front of her. She knew how to get onto her designated train, the Hogwarts Express, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed that her dad wasn't here to drop her off into her first year of wizarding school.

Shaking her thoughts away, she moved forward. As she got closer, her feet started to speed up. Bracing herself, she ran straight through.

It felt like she was floating for a second until she heard the sound of her flats smacking the ground.

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was an enormous crimson train, gleaming from the ceiling lights.

"Woah." she awed. She could've stayed there and watched the glorious locomotive all day, if it weren't for the steam rising from it's silver pistols.

Taking notice of the time, she jumped onto the monorail, her luggage dragging behind her. Theodora glanced at the compartments as she passed by, not joining the other kids who were playing games like Exploding Snap and Gobstones or just pigging out on Pumpkin Pasties and Cauldron Cakes.

"Finally." she murmured, relieved, opening the empty compartment.

Theodora collasped down on the comfortable seats, getting out her favorite book: _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_.

She was just learning about the Cerberus—which is a multiple-headed dog—when the door squeaked open.

"Excuse me?" It was a girl with bushy brown hair, her nose turned up and her voice confident. "Have you seen a toad? This boy, Neville Longbottom, has lost one."

"His name's Trevor." Neville added, meekly.

Theodora shook her head, sadly. How awful it must be, losing a pet that meant so much to you. She, out of all people, should know, raising owls and selling them for a living.

"Sorry. I haven't." she said sincerely.

With a dignified _hmph,_ the girl left, with Neville whimpering behind her.

_'What an unlikely duo of friends.'_ she thought.

After a while, Theodora's eyes started to feel tired. Yawning, she shut her book, clutching it to her chest like it was a pillow.

Her peace vanished however, as the door opened with a _smack_ instead of a _squeak_.

It was the girl from before, her chocolate eyes were narrowed, and cheeks burning red. It seemed like she had just ran a marathon, with her uneven breathing. Her arms were crossed, and she was staring at Theodora with an expectant look.

". . . . . . hello?" Theodora greeted, uncertainly.

"I apologize for barging in." she said, not looking sorry at all. "Some boys were acting barbaric a minute ago. It was very irresponsible, really. May I sit down? Thanks. I just feel so drained from acknowledging their foolish behavior. Honestly, fighting when we haven't even started school yet! I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?"

"Erm," Theodora blinked. "Theodora Langley."

"Really?" Hermione asked, a smile blooming on her face. "As in Langley's Owl Training? I've read all about your family in _Wizards That Contributed to Society_. Do you really work with owls?"

"Yeah," the blonde replied, feeling more at ease. "My dad and I take care of owls everyday. It's very fun."

"Interesting! How does it work?" Hermione questioned.

"First, the owls have to study maps and globes. You know, to learn where all the countries are. After that, they go on test runs. We give them parchment, send them off to several places, and give them to a random wizard or witch. If the parchment comes back to the owl ranch, then we know they passed. We record the time they take, whenever they leave for a trip. The quicker, the better. And if they take too long, then we just get a trained owl to find them." she explained.

The girl in front of her was leaning forward in interest, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"That's absolutely fascinating!" she commented.

"Thanks." Theodora beamed, happy that she made a new friend.

The two began to chat some more as an hour flew by. Theodora had changed into her school robes by then, her hair pushed back with a headband. The girls walked out of the train, continuing the conversation.

"And you wouldn't believe how _stupid_ he was," Hermione drawled. "He was trying to change the color of his rat. We obviously aren't going to learn that kind of transfiguration until next term at most!"

She giggled at the brunette's rambling. That boy really must've peeved her if she was moaning about it this much.

"Boys are boys," she said as Hermione laughed along with her. "Come on! Let's go!"

They ran along with the other first years to the small light of a lantern, which stood out against the dark night. She gasped once she saw who was holding their only source of seeing.

"Hagrid!" she grinned.

"Why hello Theodora," he said kindly, moving his eyes. "Alright Harry?"

Harry? She followed Hagrid's sight as it landed on the boy from the Leaky Cauldron. Once they've made eye contact, Theodora was able to see him properly. Unruly raven hair, round glasses, but it was the lightning bolt scar on his forehead that made her freeze.

_Harry Potter_. The boy with the stunning eyes was Harry Potter. He was the only one who had ever survived a killing curse by You-Know-Who—the most powerful dark wizard ever—himself!

She could tell that she wasn't the only one who noticed, as the rest of the crowd was watching his every move. Sympathy melted her heart, as she felt so sorry for him. His parents dying just to save him. It's tragic.

As a little girl, Theodora had admired him greatly for his courage, and had always thought of him as a hero. But now, all she could see was a regular, sparkly-eyed boy, who wanted to learn just like she did.

She gave him smile. Her heart swelled when he returned it.

"Theodora! Let's go!" Hermione demanded, tugging her arm to the boats.

Another pair of girls joined them as they soon were on the surface of the Black Lake.

"I'm definitely going to go giant squid watching this weekend. It would be a fantastic way to end my first week at Hogwarts!" she declared, looking down at the water.

Hermione rolled her eyes, fondly. "Only if you finish your school work first."

Theodora didn't say anything, ignoring her friend's disapproving look.

"Everyone's adoring the castle right now," Hermione commented. "I think you're the only one who still cares about the squid."

Castle? Were they there, already? Moving her head, her jaw dropped. Hogwarts was magnificant; standing tall and proud.

Her breathing quickened, as she stumbled out of the little canoe and onto land.

"Is this yer toad?" Hagrid said, pointing to the creature, sitting on a rock.

"Trevor!" Neville's voice echoed, as he reunited with his beloved pet.

Theodora and Hermione shared an amused smile, as they went inside their new home for the next seven years.

On the other side, was a lady with a pointed hat propped on her head, with posture stiff as a board, and her lips in a straight line. Intimidated, Theodora ducked her head, avoiding all eye contact.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid gestured to the group.

"Thank you Hagrid. I'll take it from here." she said, her large eyes scanning them from head to toe.

She lead them to the Entrance Hall, as Theodora took in everything. The friendliest pictures that waved at her as she passed by. The never-ending staircases! It was all so wonderful!

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

Doubt seeped into Theodora's mind. Classes with the rest of your house? Spend free time in your house common room? Her eyes darted to Hermione. What if they weren't in the same house? Will they ever see each other again?

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

A frown popped onto her face. She has heard all about the House Cup from her dad. The Slytherin House had a winning streak for a long, much to her dad's displeasure, as he was a Hufflepuff. Determination flared up inside her. The House Cup was now her main priority for the school year!

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Everyone, including Theodora, fussed with themselves, straightening their clothes. Looking around, Theodora stifled a laugh. Even Harry was patting down his hair!

"Oh, I'm so nervous! I've been studying many enchantments you see," Hermione blabbered. "But the _Standard Book of Spells_ only go so far!"

Everybody was glaring at her as she kept on muttering. Theodora gave them a hard look, while patting Hermione on the shoulder.

"Don't worry Hermione," she said. "Dad said that the ceremony's quite simple!"

"They could've change it!" she protested. "I've heard someone saying that we had to fight a troll!"

Theodora scoffed. "You're a muggleborn aren't you? Trolls aren't exactly the most brightest creatures. They are rather strong, though . . . . . ."

That didn't assure Hermione at all. As she kept on thinking of all the possible spells she could use for defense, a scream was heard.

"What the—?"

It was ghosts. Theodora watched eagerly as they floated by.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —" one said.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

"Yes. I'm a bit nervous, myself." Theodora admitted, gaining shocked looks from her peers.

"Now, now. Don't be scared." he said to her, with a wink. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now," Professor McGonagall returned. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

One by one, the ghosts disappeared into the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years. "And follow me."

They entered to the Great Hall, passing by four long tables, each with a pack of students, wearing a different colored ties, indicating their house. Floating candles provided warm yellow light, contasting with the black ceiling.

"It's bewitched to look like the night sky," Hermione informed. "I read that in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Nodding, Theodora stopped with the others in front of the staff table. The only thing in between them was an old stool, with a hat that's just as ancient. Bewildered, the first-years stood there quietly. A second later, the hat began to sing, resulting in multiple gasps and yelps of surprise.

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find  
_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be_

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! _

_Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

Her hands started to sweat and Theodora forced herself not to wipe them off on her brand new robes. Professor McGonagall called out names as student after student flew by, with a new family in their wake.

"Hermione Granger." Professor McGonagall called, looking up from her scroll.

With a comforting smile, Theodora gently pushed her friend forward. She smiled as she heard Hermione reassuring herself.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat yelled.

Beaming, Theodora clapped the loudest, banging her hands together until they burned.

She fiddled with her thumbs as a couple of more kids got sorted. Hermione was sending her encouraging looks, flashing her large front teeth.

"Theodora Langley."

Her legs felt like jelly as she went to sit on the stool. Scrunching up her eyes, she bit her bottom lip, waiting for the moment of truth.

"_Well, well, well,"_ the hat hummed. _"What do we have here?"_


	3. The Sorting Ceremony

**Hello! Welcome to Chapter 3! Thank you for all who took the time to read this!**

**Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter is not mine and it won't ever be! (Sadly)**

**P.S. I know the story's a bit slow, but, I promise you that the action will pick up very, very soon!**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Theodora didn't say anything, her eyes fluttering around the Great Hall.

"_You're very nervous, aren't you? Well, there's nothing to be worried about_." the hat chimed.

"_What if I don't like the house that you've chosen for me."_ she thought. "_What if I get a different house than Hermione?"_

"_Don't you think like that. You have a big heart, yes. A passion for magical creatures. And very, very loyal. Much like a Hufflepuff! A father's daughter!"_

She raised an eyebrow, thinking it over. A Hufflepuff?

"_Hm, do I sense major intelligence in that head of yours? No, no. You're smart, but it isn't enough. Especially for Rowena Ravenclaw's high expectations."_

Her cheeks tinted a soft pink in embarrassment. She was a bit of slacker in some classes, but she wasn't that awful . . . . . .

"_A bit too truthful.__ However, truth isn't a quality of the Slytherin House, where cunning is mandatory. Tough, very tough."_

There were very few options left. The tips of her fingers scratched the hem of her grey sweater vest. The collar of her white button-up shirt felt tighter than usual as she struggled to calm down.

"_Kind. Compassionate. Trustworthy. A true badger! Yet, there's something in you. A spark. It's bold! Daring! A lion! You must be a . . . . . ."_

Theodora held her breath, and winced, hoping for the best.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Cheers were thrown into the air by the red table. Professor McGonagall took the hat off of her, giving her a satisfied look. Theodora practically ran to Hermione, jumping in the seat next to her.

"Congratulations!" she whispered. "I was worried that we wouldn't be together, as the hat was considering to put me in Ravenclaw. My anxiety heightened when you were taking a rather long time getting sorted."

"Sorry. Well, the hat said I would've been a great Hufflepuff," Theodora admitted sheepishly. "But it put me here."

Hufflepuff was the house of trust, loyalty, and team work. Yet, it was the least favorite house of the four, as it was supposedly for duffers.

"It's fine. The hat never makes a wrong decision." her friend said, wisely.

Nodding, Theodora perked up. The Sorting Ceremony was still going on as ten minutes past. Bored, she turned to the other first-year Gryffindors, hoping to make new companions.

"Hello," she said to a girl. "I'm Theodora Langley."

"Lavender Brown," she introduced herself, giving out her hand. She gestured to another girl who she was talking with. "And this is Parvati Patil."

She shook Lavender's hand, and shot a smile at Parvati. "Nice to meet you two. Are you ready for classes?"

"Not really. I don't care much for the academics, myself." Lavender dismissed.

Hermione went pale as snow as she started to lecture the girl, spluttering numerous facts on the top of her head, as if it were common knowledge.

Theodora smiled at her confidence. She hoped she wouldn't struggle with the work. Her dad always gave her a few pointers, but that hat definitely made her fear for the worst.

"Harry Potter."

She snapped right back to reality, as did everyone else. It was deadly silent, as people watched closely. Theodora was practically hanging off the edge of her seat.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The whole table celebrated, flailing their twiggy arms into the air. Harry, looking relieved, hurried down, and sat across from Theodora.

"Hi," she greeted. "It's nice to have you in Gryffindor."

"Thanks," he said, with a grin plastered on his face. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"Theodora Langley." she responded, feeling pleased that he was speaking to her.

They couldn't continue talking however as Harry's attention turned to ginger-headed boy who was currently being sorted.

"Ron Weasley."

His sapphire eyes were wide, his large nose was wiggling in discomfort, and his bottom lip was caught under his front teeth.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She clapped politely, as the boy ran down here, placing himself on Harry's left side.

As the last of the first-years, Blaise Zabini, got sorted into Slytherin, a man stood up on his feet, his blue eyes twinkling like the stars on the ceiling.

It was Albus Dumbledore, she realized. A powerful and wise wizard that was the face of her many Chocolate Frog cards.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Theodora giggled at the odd man but her attention quickly turned to the feast that appeared suddenly on the table. Taking some roast beef and a few scoops of mashed potatoes, she ate her dinner eagerly, listening to her other fellow classmates' chatter.

"I'm half-and-half! Me dad's a muggle!" An Irish boy named Seamus Finnigan said. "Mum's a witch! He had a pretty nasty shock when he found out!"

She let out an unattractive snort, but covered her mouth quickly. Glancing around, she realized the others didn't notice, and she sighed, relieved. Going back to her food, she caught Harry's eyes, which were looking at her, amused.

Theodora was frightened, to say the least. Offering an embarrassed smile, she broke off the staring contest, focusing on her plate.

"I wonder how long it takes to make this amount of food." Hermione said, absentmindedly.

"They probably made it out of thin air," Ron answered with a mouth full of chicken. "My mum does that."

"Absolutely not!" Hermione rejected. "Food is the first of the five in the _Principle_ _Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration—"_

"At least you can eat food!" A ghost who was talking to Harry, overheard their conversation.

Apparently, his name was Sir Nicholas, but often called Nearly Headless Nick. The reason was because his head was almost cut off completely, but never really got to the whole point. The demonstration wasn't pretty.

Later, after singing the Hogwarts song, Percy Weasley—one of Ron's older brothers, she had learned from him—taught the first years the way to the Gryffindor common room; which was a few staircases up from the ground behind a portrait of a rather big lady in a grand pink dress.

"Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis." The prefect answered.

The portrait swung open, dangling on its side, revealing a round hole. Theodora watched the fifth-year crawl over it, and she copied.

"Guys," she heard Neville say. "I need a little help."

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Classes tomorrow," Hermione swooned, taking off her fluffy robe, showing off her nightdress underneath, and laying down on her bed. "So exciting!"

"Yeah." Theodora said, not moving her eyes away from the spectacular view from her bed, that was near the window.

It was silent for a moment, until Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, went out of the restroom, with frequent giggles and whispers.

"Excuse me!" Hermione hissed, reminding Theodora of the time they had first met. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

The noise ceased instantly, as Theodora gave her friend a thankful look, which was returned with a triumphant grin. Pulling the blankets to her chin, she breathed in deep, ready to sleep, since she wanted to wake as early as possible for tomorrow.

A second later, a slight chuckle slipped out from across the room, quickly followed by mutters.

_'Really? Is this what I have to put up with all year?'_ she thought, annoyed.

Little did she know, Lavender and Parvati were the least she had to be worried about this year.


	4. Professor Snape

**Hello! It's chapter 4! Hurray! Thank you to all who read this far!**

**Disclaimer: I wish Harry Potter was mine. But sadly, the world isn't a wish-making factory. Ugh.**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

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"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Those whispers irritated Theodora all week. Since people have the same schedules as their own housemates, she had to endure Harry's misery with him.

"Are you serious?" she groaned, as there was another crowd of people, blocking the way to her seat in the Great Hall.

"_Hmph_," Hermione sniffed. "They better hurry, or they'll be late to classes."

The two of them had their pathway interrupted multiple times, throughout the past few days. But other than that, their lessons went by rather smoothly.

Theodora didn't like star-gazing that much, making Astronomy rather a burden, as they had to study the night skies through telescopes, learn the names of different stars, and the movements of the planets.

Herbology was nice, though. They got to go out to the greenhouses, learning how to take care of the most strangest plants and fungi, and finding out what they are used for. Professor Sprout had awarded Theodora with five points for getting a question correct about Tranquility Tulips (an essential ingredient for a Calming Draught).

She definitely enjoyed her History of Magic class. It was taught by a ghost—which made her eagerness grow even more—named Professor Binns. It was all so riveting. She never knew of the _Goblin's Strike of 1812._

Professor Flitwick, who taught Charms, was very friendly. He reached up to her waist, much to her amusement, as she was one of the shortest girls in her year, if not the shortest. He was also a great teacher, as he showed her the proper way to use her wand: _the swish and flick._

Transfiguration was . . . . . . fine. She thought it would've been better, if it weren't for Professor McGonagall's strictness about the subject.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She then transfigured into a pig and back, much to the classes' excitement. However, they realized they weren't going to learn animal transfiguration for a while, making Theodora slump in her seat in disappointment.

Although, Defense Against the Dark Arts, was the real let down. Professor Quirrell kept stuttering and the room reeked of garlic. All in all, not one of her favorite classes.

"Hello!" Theodora raised her voice, as she balanced on the tips of her toes, catching everyone's attention. "We're trying to eat! So if you _please_ move, it will be very much appreciated!"

The wall of students glared at her, murmuring their complaints, as they scattered.

"Thank you." she rolled her eyes, sitting down, pulling on Hermione's arm.

Harry and Ron stared at her, impressed, as she took a slice of toast and some grape jam, acting as if nothing had happened. Hermione shook her head and joined the three for breakfast.

"You could've been more professional about it," she poured a glass of orange juice. "No teacher would want such a flamboyant character in their classrooms, Theodora."

"Oh lay off!" Ron defended. "They've been making us late for ages now! 'Bout time someone knocks them down a peg."

"Then why didn't you get rid of them yourself?" Hermione inquired.

"What have we got today?" Harry interrupted their squabbling, as Ron's face started to flush in anger.

"Double Potions." Theodora munched on the crust.

"With the Slytherins." Ron added, glumly. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them—we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us." Harry sighed wistfully, thinking of the great pile of homework that was assigned from her.

"Favoritism won't get you anywhere," Hermione swallowed her last spoon of porridge. "I'll be heading off now. I'll save you a seat, Theodora."

"That'll be great, thanks."

As she left, Theodora heard numerous amount of hoots. Sitting up, she glanced at the flock of many familiar owls as they flew in.

"Mail's here." Ron smiled, his eyes never leaving the ceiling.

She squinted her eyes, looking for a particular black one, with dazzling sapphire irises. And as if on cue, an owl with the very same description, landed in front of her.

"Rolan!" Theodora beamed. "I haven't seen you in so long! How're you doing?"

He clicked his beak happily as an answer, stretching out his left leg, revealing the paper attached to it.

"Thank you," she untied the letter. "Here. Eat. You need it for the long journey."

She held out a piece of a bagel to him, as he nibbled on it. Petting his head, she started to read.

_Dear Theo,_

_The owls and I both miss you, dearly. I hope you've been doing well at Hogwarts, and have been completing all of your assignments. Be nice to the teachers, and check on the Hogwarts owls in the school Owlery, okay? Being at school does not mean you could slack off on your owl training duties!_

_Dad_

Theodora rolled her eyes. Work. That was all the man could talk about! Not to mention the letter was addressed with that horrid nickname of hers! Crushing the sheet into her pocket, she sipped her cup of pumpkin juice, nudging Rolan's chin, softly.

"You're very good with them, aren't you?" Harry commented, looking at her interaction with the owl.

"Thanks," she said. "It all comes with the job."

"Job?" Ron asked, curiously.

"Yes. Haven't you ever heard of Langley's Owl Training?"

Ron nearly dropped his fork.

"Wicked!" he awed. "Your family has trained every owl to deliver mail for centuries! That means you know Hermes and Errol!"

"You've gotten those two?" she stifled her giggles. "They're quite colorful."

"Tell me about it." he groaned, but she could tell he was hiding a smile.

As they were talking, Theodora didn't notice another familiar face, until a flash of white was blocking her vision.

"Hedwig! Stop!" Harry cried out.

"Hedwig?" her voice was muffled by feathers. "You're Harry's owl?"

The bird calmed down, getting off her former owner's face, and placed herself on top Theodora's empty plate, instead.

"Of course," Harry realized. "Your family trained her, then?"

"Yes! I've personally taught her myself. Is she doing, okay?"

"She's been perfect." Harry beamed.

Flashing a triumphant smile, Theodora noticed a message attached to the snowy owl's leg.

"You've got mail, Harry." she pointed out.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, as he undid the knot. Theodora watched his stunning eyes move left and right along with the words.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?_

_I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig._

_Hagrid_

Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbling his acceptance.

Later, the three first-years, went to their Potions lesson. It was located in one of the dungeons. Theodora joined Hermione's side again, taking out her quill and parchment. She couldn't stop shivering because of the cold temperature . . . . . . and the pickled animals that were squashed into jars, floating beside the walls.

Professor Snape started the class off by taking roll call. She had squirmed in her seat when he had drawled out her name in his low voice. But that couldn't compare when he'd picked on Harry.

"Ah, yes." he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new—_celebrity."_

Theodora scowled as she heard the sniggers of the Slytherin students, especially the white-blonde that wore too much hair gel.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses . . . . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stop death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads that I usually have to teach."

Hermione gasped, and leaned forward in urgency, not wanting to be a dunderhead. Theodora, however, was unimpressed by the man's awful comments.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione shot her hand in the air, waving it around, trying to get into Professor Snape's line of vision. Theodora just crossed her arms, not bothering to participate.

Harry glanced around, helplessly, begging for some help. Theodora mouthed the answer to him, as he looked her way. He looked panicked, not understanding what she'd said.

"I don't know, sir." he gave up.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

The white-blonde and his goonies were shaking in laughter.

"I don't know sir." Harry shook his head.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Theodora snorted, and unfortunately, everyone heard it this time. Heat exploded on her pale cheeks, as she slid down her chair, wanting to disappear.

"Sit down!" he demanded Hermione, who looked like she was about to cry. "Alright, Langley. Since you obviously think you're so clever, why don't you share your expertise on the subject. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Theodora tugged on her pleated skirt. "The Draught of Living Death."

It was silent for a moment, until Snape clicked his teeth.

"Where, Langley, would you find me a bezoar?"

"The stomach of a goat."

He went to her table, his black shadow hovering over her like the night, as she slowly moved her head back up.

"The difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They're the same thing."

Snape abruptly walked away from her. His robe swooshed as he swiftly spun around.

"Monkshood and wolfsbane could also go by the name aconite, Langley." Snape snarled. "A quite important fact that you've so stupidly missed. Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?" he bared his teeth, reminding Theodora very much of a rabid dog.

Quickly, she snatched her quill and filled her parchment with several lines of notes, along with the rest of the class.

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek Potter," Snape declared. "You too, Langley, for encouraging him."

Theodora nodded reluctantly, feeling ashamed, as the lesson continued.

Snape put the class into pairs and set them to mixing to a simple potion to cure boils. Teaming up with Hermione, she tried to ignore Snape as he swept around, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing everyone besides Malfoy. Theodora had learned his name when Snape was boasting about him, and his perfectly stewed horned slugs. Thankfully (or unfortunately), the endless adorations of the young Slytherin ended when acid green smoke spread around the room like fog, with loud hisses in the background.

Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" sneered Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor," Snape announced. "Do you have anything to add, Langley?"

Hermione gave Theodora a hard look, when she opened her mouth. Closing it, she closed her eyes, and growled under her breath.

After an hour, they climbed out of the dungeon, with Hermione huffing and puffing behind her.

"Three points in one day," she muttered. "Talking that way to a teacher, that Potter. Even my own friend _laughed_."

The blonde paid her no attention, knowing that Hermione didn't mean it. She was just the type of person who was focused too much on the academics. Theodora didn't mind.

"Do you want to go giant squid watching?" she asked, nudging Hermione's shoulder.

"Sorry," she rejected, brusquely. "I have to go study Charms. Maybe another time."

She scurried away, the sound of her steps echoing as her shoes made contact with the floor. Theodora frowned, but kept walking, eventually bumping into Harry and Ron.

"Hi, Harry. Hi, Ron." she tucked in a leftover strand of hair behind her ear. "Erm—I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry."

The two looked at her blankly, as the girl continued, trying to clear their confusion.

"You know," she murmered. "For losing a point. I just made it worse than it already was."

"You don't have to be sorry. It was my fault in the first place." Harry said, kindly.

"It was bloody brilliant, though!" Ron commented. "You two definitely showed Snape!"

Theodora giggled, hugging her books to her chest. "Thanks. So where're you two going?"

"Hagrid's." Ron said.

"Would you like to come?" Harry offered. "You know him, don't you?"

Joy erupted inside of her, as she nodded eagerly. "Yes I do! He's a family friend. It would be lovely to visit him again, thanks. And it would be great to finally explore the place!"

"You haven't seen much of the grounds, then?" Ron asked.

"No. Hermione knows the exact ways to our classes," she explained. "So, I haven't seen the whole castle, yet. Although, we do spent time in the library quite often."

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "_Back_, Fang —_back_."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open. "Hang on," he said. "_Back_, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Ron. And you know Theodora," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

Theodora gladly took a rock cake, licking the surface. She fought the urge to laugh at the boys' reactions when they tried to bite the hard pastry.

"'Lo, Theodora." he held more rock cakes out to her. "Can't believe yeh made some mates now! Nothin' wrong with yer usual owls of course, but real people this time! How great!"

The girl smiled pleasantly, happy to consider Harry and Ron as her friends.

"Thank you, Hagrid." she plucked a raisin off the top of the cake, and popped it into her mouth, savoring the tangy flavor.

The four started to talk about their lessons. The topic then turned to Potions.

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really _hate_ me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot — great with animals. Jus' like Theodora, here."

The said girl's rosy cheeks from the cold quickly turned crimson as she hummed in satisfaction, scratching Fang behind his ears.

Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Theodora picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. She started reading, aware of Harry who was peering over her shoulder. It was a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_:

_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

"_But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon._

Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts; the Wizarding bank. But he hadn't mentioned the date.

"Hagrid!" said Harry, "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry read the story again. _The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day._

"What do you mean, Harry?" Theodora questioned, worried.

Harry spared a glance at Hagrid and Ron, who were still chatting about dragons, and then back to Theodora.

"You see," he whispered. "Hagrid and I went and emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen that same day the break-in happened. There was nothing in there but a grubby little package."

"Wait," she realized where Harry was going with this. "Does that mean that the package you two picked up could be what the thieves were looking for?"

Harry just stared at her, making Theodora shrink under his intense gaze.

"I wouldn't doubt it."


	5. Flying Lessons

**Hello! This is chapter 5!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"You're late." Hermione snipped, her scowl hidden underneath _Quidditch Through the Ages._

"Yeah." Theodora admitted sheepishly, waving around the wooden brush in her hand.

"What are you doing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fixing my hair."

"At the table?" Hermione couldn't believe the behavior of the girl sitting beside her.

"Apparently." Theodora shrugged, yanking the handle through an awful knot.

"You should eat something," Hermione suggested, gulping down her oatmeal. "It's flying lessons with the Slytherins. And based on Malfoy's gloats, I believe we need all the energy we could get."

"Really?" Theodora asked, taking an apple. "I've always wanted to fly. But there isn't much room in my yard to zoom about, you see. Especially with those Muggles nosing in places they don't belong."

Hermione clenched her jaw. "Not all Muggles are nosy, thank you very much. It's just not normal for them to see cleaning objects float high in the sky. Oh goodness, I've finished my book! Great! Now I need to go and check out _The Secret to Top Notch Flying_ before someone else does!"

And with that, Hermione rushed away, her bulging bag banging against her back, and her bushy brown hair flapping in rhythm with the wind.

"She shouldn't be talking about being nosy," Ron scoffed from across the table. "You should've seen her barging into our compartment on the train ride to Hogwarts. Practically begging me to do a spell, that one."

Theodora merely shook her head, biting away a large green apple chunk.

"Hermione's just eager," she said. "And she's not the only one. I'm practically shaking in my seat!"

"Speak for yourself," said Harry darkly. "Just what I've always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

He had been looking so forward to learning how to fly more than anything else.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Theodora giggled and shook her head, making the tips of her now smooth hair graze the top of her shoulders, gently.

"Boys and their competition," she teased. "As cool as it is to fly, it's not like getting a front row ticket to a Celestina Warbeck concert."

Ron spluttered. "Quidditch is the most brilliant sport in the entire world! Way better than listening to that trash!"

"Trash?" Theodora repeated, a look of utter disbelief on her face. "Celestina Warbeck is a legend! I always sing along to her songs when they play on the Wireless Wizarding Network."

"Oh stop fighting," Harry said, fondly. "Girls and their competition."

"Hey!" Both Ron and Theodora exclaimed.

The three of them had spent much of their time together lately. After the Potions incident, Hermione had drifted herself away from Theodora, only speaking a few curt sentences to her from time to time, much to the blonde's disappointment. So she hung out with Harry and Ron instead, not that the boys minded that much.

Soon a rustle was heard, making Theodora snap her head up at the bewitched ceiling, as the owls came in at the normal time.

"Mail's here, again! I hope dad finally sent me my compact mirror. I can't believe I forgot it at home," Theodora unconsciously patted down her head. "I hope I look okay."

Ron, as helpful as ever, didn't even look up from his food. "You look the same as you always do."

Giving the boy a scandalized look, Theodora turned to Harry for a proper answer.

"You look nice." he said, smiling shyly.

Harry felt his face warm up quickly, and averted his eyes. He wasn't used to the uncomfortable situation of commenting on a girl's looks.

"Thank you, Harry." she said, looking down at her plate, all of a sudden feeling embarrassed.

The boys exchanged awkward glances at the flustered girl in front of them.

Eleven-year-old Theodora like the other girls in her year (excluding Hermione), had fallen under the good ol' insecurity and the-mirror-is-your- best-friend curse.

"Oh thank Godric! It's Rolan!" she called, relief washing over her face.

The owl glided over to them as graceful as ever, with a little cardboard box clutched between his sharp talons. He freed it from his harsh grip, the package landing perfectly in front of Theodora with a big _plop_!

"Thank you, boy!" she threw a piece of blueberry scone up in the air, the owl catching it in his mouth. "See you next time!"

With a loud hoot, the bird disappeared with lightning speed.

Ripping apart the Spell-O-Tape, she rummaged through the multiple contents inside. Getting the first thing she touched, she yanked it out by the handle.

"Oh no!" she groaned, annoyed by the outcome.

"You've already got a hairbrush, though." Ron said, his eyebrows rising higher, eventually getting hidden underneath his red bangs.

Theodora sighed, throwing it back in the case. "It's not a hairbrush. It's an owl brush. The dull bristles were specifically made for animals, since they're rather delicate."

She looked into the container, only to find a bronze whistle to call an owl with; measuring tape to record the length of an owl's wings as they grow; and a feather shiner (Make Your Bird As New As Ever!).

"You seem upset," the ginger boy observed her reaction, as he slurped his pumpkin juice.

"I am," she pushed the chest away. "All summer, I've worked day after day at the owl ranch. I love the job, I really do, but is it so wrong to take time off? I have enough to worry about with Transfiguration and Astronomy! I'm just tired of how much he treats me like an employee, throwing all these tasks at me when he could easily do them himself! I just feel like he's stop putting all effort into the family business after my step-mum died—!" she cut herself off.

It was silent as her two friends mulled over the unintentional confession.

Harry was shocked to say the least. He didn't ever thought of Theodora's step-mum as dead—or the fact that she had a step-mum—as he always had assumed his friend had lived a normal life because of her usual sweet-as-sugar attitude she frequently showed off with her bright smiles and contagious laughs.

Empathy coursed through Harry's body like poison as he watched his new friend try to hide her sadness in front of him.

_'No one deserves to lose a parent.'_ Harry thought bitterly.

"Sorry," she rubbed her eyes. "I'm being stupid. Blubbering over my step-mum when I'm sitting in front of you, Harry . . . . . ."

"It's fine," he responded, quickly. "I get it."

"That's awful." Theodora frowned. "You've got it so much worse than I do."

Ron fidgeted in his seat, watching the depressing conversation between his two friends. Harry seemed to be in a deep trance while Theodora was sniffing her tears away, trying to compose herself.

"Hey," Ron hoped to change the subject, his voice snapping the two out of their dark thoughts. "Neville's got a Remembrall!"

It was a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke. Neville pressed his face against it, watching the light wisps float inside the sphere, transfixed.

"How pretty." Theodora perked up a tiny bit, leaning forward on her elbows to get a good view.

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched at how she got so easily distracted.

"What does it do?" he asked, trying to get closer to the object as well.

"Gran knows I forget things," Neville explained, holding the Remembrall up for them to see. "And this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red — oh . . . . . ." his face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, ". . . . . . forgotten something . . . . . ."

As Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten, Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

"What do you think you're doing!" Theodora hissed, in outrage.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?" her voice was stern.

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor." Neville said.

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, Theodora, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson.

It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley—Ron's older twin siblings— complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

The yearning Theodora felt to fly on a broom vanished as she took in the brush whose twigs spiked out in odd angles, and some pieces of the rotting wooden stick were chipped and full of splinters.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione— who was standing a few feet away from them— didn't have much luck as hers simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all.

"With feeling!" Madam Hooch reprimanded. "Shout at your broom! Demand your broom! Show your broom who's in charge!"

"UP!" Theodora said again, waiting anxiously for her broom to obey her, only to fail miserably as the lumpy thing stayed on the ground.

At least she wasn't the only one having trouble, as the smack of Ron's long nose colliding with his broom echoed loudly through the lesson followed by a large "OW!"

"With feeling." Harry teased, seeing his friend still not getting it.

"Shut up, Harry!" Ron couldn't help but slip out a chuckle. "Make fun of Theodora, not me!"

"No way!" she failed to hide her grin. "Be quiet, Ron! Ugh! Why isn't this broom working?"

"Just say it like you mean it." Harry counseled.

"Say it like I mean it? I've been straining my vocal cords for the last few minutes! There's got to be another way to do this! Something much more effective!" Theodora persisted.

"Oh really?" Madam Hooch questioned, arms crossed over her chest.

The three Gryffindor first-years jumped, only just noticing the teacher was breathing down their necks the whole time.

"Erm—!" Theodora stuttered, feeling her body freeze in terror.

"You think you're too superior to follow my guidance, Langley?" Hooch interrupted. "Making another disruptance in my class just like you did with Professor Snape's, are you?"

The girl focused on the fresh blades of grass beneath her instead of the teacher's face.

"I'm," Theodora's voice cracked. "Erm, I just, um, the method isn't, you know, working for me."

The whole class was watching the two. Hooch was glaring at Theodora, daring the girl to defy her.

"Alright. Then why don't you show the class how to fly, since I'm obviously not fit enough to do so." her voice was mocking.

Slowly nodding, the first-year stepped forward.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins looked on at the scene, waiting in anticipation.

"Okay," Theodora whispered to herself in reassurance, slightly bending down to the broom. " . . . . . . hi there?"

Malfoy and the rest of his gang started snickering as Madam Hooch cracked a taunting smirk.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Hermione jeered in embarrassment.

Waving off the disapproving girl, she gave the old broom one of her most encouraging smiles she could muster.

_'It's just like an owl_.' Theodora thought.

"You see," she said to the object. "I've always wanted to fly. To go above and beyond with the sun and stars, like you do. It must be so beautiful up there. So would you just please—?"

The broom zapped up to her hand, as Theodora gasped, not expecting that to work.

"Thank you." she appreciated, the item in her hand twitched a bit in response.

Madam Hooch's yellow eyes seemed to burn red with anger, as the little first-year girl had just stumped her.

"What was that?" Ron guffawed, nudging Harry who had his jaw dropped.

"Well, I figured the brooms must be so fed up with kids shouting at them all the time. Why can't we just ask them nicely? It's the least we can do after so many of us weigh them down and worn out their handles and brushes after years of flying on them." Theodora shrugged sheepishly at the weird looks that were shot at her.

Most of the Gryffindor kids patted her on the back and complimented her on her achievement. Well, except Hermione, who only muttered furiously to herself.

"Get back in your lines!" Hooch roared.

They did as she said, with Theodora a bit more confident than earlier. Hooch walked down the aisle, showing them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end and correcting their grips.

Theodora covered a laugh with her hand, as she, Harry, and Ron were delighted when Hooch told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," she said. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three — two —!"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle — twelve feet — twenty feet.

Hooch didn't notice the glare Theodora was sporting at her, since she was too busy yelling at poor Neville who was still flipping around in the air, helplessly.

_'It's not like he could help it.'_ she wanted to tell the rude teacher.

They all saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, him gasping, slipping sideways off the broom and — WHAM! — a thud and a nasty crack and Neville laid facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," They heard her mutter. "Come on, boy — it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Be quiet, Malfoy! As if you could do better! May I remind you of your grip, maybe? Too bad Madam Hooch helped you, I would've loved seeing you fall straight to the ground." Theodora spat, feeling her temper getting the better of her.

"You filthy blood-traitor! You dare try to talk to me that way, Langley! Someone better teach you some respect!" he growled.

"Don't talk about respect and then tease Neville that way, you little hypocrite—!"

She felt a small tug on her elbow, which turned out to be Harry, who was shaking his head.

"Ooooh! What's the matter, Potter?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Afraid that your girlfriend's ditching you for a fat little crybaby?"

"Shut up!" Harry bit back to the girl who only laughed nasally in response.

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.

Everyone stopped talking to watch. Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?"

"Give it _here_!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he _could_ fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"_No!"_ shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move — you'll get us all into trouble!"

"Lay off!" Ron snapped, shoving Harry forward. "Go on, Harry! Show that slimy snake who's boss!"

Everyone gasped as Harry took off, entranced by how _graceful_ he was, twirling and zipping around on the broom.

"He's a natural, he is!" Theodora stated, Ron's head nodding along with her.

"I can't believe you!" Hermione practically exploded. "You think this is a good thing, do you? Well it's not! They're breaking the rules! Losing us so many points that Gryffindor might never recover from! And here you are, Theodora, cheering them on!"

Before the girl could respond, she was pushed away by Ron.

"Leave her alone! You're just jealous that she's been hanging out with Harry and I instead of you!" he yelled.

Hermione's nose flared, her breathing quickened, and her bushy hair seemed electrified.

"I swear to Merlin, Ronald Weasley—!" she didn't finish her sentence as Parvati Patil shrieked.

"HARRY!"

The batch of Gryffindors hurried to mob the hero who just got back Neville's Remembrall.

Squeezing her way through the crowd, Theodora gave Harry a warm hug; not too tight for discomfort but close enough for the flowery scent of Theodora's hair to tickle Harry's nose pleasantly.

"You were absolutely brilliant!" she clapped her hands together in joy.

"That was wicked, Harry!" Ron slapped him on the back.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Theodora almost thought she literally heard Harry's heartbeat stop faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. Harry got to his feet, trembling.

"_Never_ — in all my time at Hogwarts —!" Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously. "—how _dare_ you — might have broken your neck —!"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor —!"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil —!"

"Please Professor McGonagall, if you could just listen—?"

"Don't even, Miss Langley —!"

"But Malfoy —!"

"That's _enough_, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

As Harry slugged behind McGonagall to the castle, Malfoy was smirking in such an ugly way that Theodora wanted to punch him just to fix his no good face.

"He's not worth it," Ron muttered in her ear, shooting the white-blond a dirty look. "Come on, let's go."

Later, it was dinnertime, much to the two's joy. Theodora gobbled on her salmon and Ron was attacking his chicken leg.

"He's still not here, yet." Theodora clinked her fork against her plate.

"Harry will be fine," Ron said, uncertainly. "He's Harry bloody Potter, remember?"

"I guess." she nibbled on her side salad.

As if on cue, Harry came rushing in, with the most elated grin on his face, scurrying to where the two sat.

"What happened to you?" Ron asked.

The elated boy happily rambled about how McGonagall introducting him to the Gryffindor captain, Oliver Wood, who offered him to join the Quidditch team as a Seeker.

"_Seeker_?" he said. "But first-years _never_ — you must be the youngest house player in about —!"

" — a century," said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told me."

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry.

"Never mind Quidditch," Theodora dismissed. "I'm just glad you aren't getting expelled. You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Theodora, I'm fine! Not one scratch on me! By the way, I start training next week," said Harry. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too — Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Oh, is this the girl you've been chatting up about, Ron?" George finally noticed Theodora, who was sitting across from them.

"Ah, Theodora was it? She looks rather lovely, doesn't she?" Fred teased, enjoying his little brother's priceless expression.

"Shut up!" Ron hissed. "Don't listen to these two gits, Dora. They're barmy."

"It's no trouble," she laughed. "It's great to meet you two. Ron's told me so much."

"Really? Little Ronnie's been talking a lot, hasn't he?"

"Yeah, what did he say?"

"Oh it's all about how you pull these pranks—"

"Gosh, Ron, you've basically told her our whole life story!" George said. "Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only — no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around.

"Absolutely not—!" Theodora protested.

"I'm his second, who's yours?" Ron cut her off.

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

Harry and Ron pretended to not have noticed the frantic gestures Theodora was throwing at them.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Ron, Theodora, and Harry looked at each other.

"What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"It means you guys are dim-wits, that's what." she shot at the two.

Her comment was happily pushed aside by the boys.

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry's face, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose." Ron shrugged.

"Excuse me."

They both looked up. It was Hermione.

"Hi, Hermione." Theodora greeted warmly, recieving a little smile in response.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying —"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"— and you _mustn't_ go wandering around the school at night, think of the more points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Good-bye," said Ron.

"You guys!" Theodora whined as Hermione strutted away.

"What?" Harry asked, innocently.

"Must you be so rude?" Theodora stabbed a piece of limp lettuce.

Waving off the annoyed look she'd gave them, Ron tugged on her elbow.

"We'll worry about her, later. Come on! Let's go think of how we're going to kick Malfoy's arse!"

"We?" she scoffed.

"Oh no," Ron groaned. "You're not pulling that one are you?"

Theodora only looked off in the distance, crossing her arms over her chest.

Both of the boys sighed. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking it a bit, making the girl lock eyes with him.

"I'm sorry about Hermione. We'll behave next time, okay?"

It didn't take long for Theodora to melt at the sight of Harry and Ron's pleading faces. A few seconds later, she eventually agreed.

"You prats." she shook her head.

They didn't look at all offended as the three continued eating, chattering about unique ways to hurt Malfoy.

"The Body-Bind Curse?" she suggested.

"Nah. He needs a nice Expulso in the head." Harry piped in.

"I'd rather you disarm him with an Expelliarmus like a pro, and _then_ punch him in the nose." Ron advised.

It couldn't get much better than this.


	6. I Told You So

**Hello! I can't believe I'm already on chapter 6!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is out of my league, therefore, it is not mine.**

**Warning: Not my most favorite chapter since it's kind of choppy, but, there's a slight emotional Harry and Theodora moment in here. It might be a bit OOC for Harry, but I just want him to react to things a bit more. Don't get me wrong, I love him, but, he's just so neutral in this book! **

**P.S. I'm sorry for the constant changes of the summary. I even changed my username too! I can't ever make up my mind, so I apologize if you're confused. Also, BEWARE OF MORE SUMMARY CHANGES IN THE FUTURE BECAUSE I'M STILL UNSATISFIED! SUGGESTIONS ARE ENCOURAGED! (I know, I'm so annoying, bare with me)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It was half-past eleven. Theodora was in the Gryffindor common room, sitting on the arm of one of the many scarlet couches. She was swinging her slipper-clad feet back and forth in the air, her hands rushing to push back the crimped waves of her hair with a headband.

"Dora!" Ron's voice peeped from behind her.

She jumped, clutching the knot that was holding her light yellow bathrobe together in comfort.

"Oh it's just you two," Theodora placed a hand over her chest. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

They started to leave, almost reaching the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Theodora. And even you, Harry."

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

"_You!_" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy — he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Theodora frowned at her interfering ways.

"Come on." Harry said, ignoring the girl completely. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.

"Don't you _care_ about Gryffindor, do you _only_ care about yourselves, _I_ don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

Guilt slapped Theodora right in the face, as thoughts of the House Cup pounced back into her mind.

_'Dad'll kill me if I lose points.'_ she inwardly groaned.

"Just go!" Harry tried to shoo her away.

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so —!"

But what they were, they didn't find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That's your problem," said Ron.

"We've got to go, we're going to be late." Harry reminded.

"No! We can't just leave her here! Hermione has to come with us! It's dangerous at night, especially with the Bloody Baron roaming about!" Theodora looked over her shoulder, as if fearing the Baron was creeping around nearby.

Honestly, she was generally fond of many magical creatures, including ghosts. But, the Bloody Baron was an exception; he always haunted the corridors during the night, scaring the daylights out of everything he sets his eyes on. Theodora had managed to avoid him the whole time she'd been at Hogwarts, and she didn't want to break that record now.

"I don't care!" Ron ears were practically steaming at her betrayal. "It's almost time for the duel!"

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you," she declared.

"You are _not_." Harry scowled.

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all four of us, I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

Theodora pursed her lips at the mention of Filch as a flashback of him shouting at her to hurry along ran through her mind.

"_You're ruining the floors that I've just cleaned, girl!" he spat at her._

She wasn't overreacting surely, since his cat, Mrs. Norris, was at fault for all the claw marks that were engraved on the skin of her calves.

"You've got some nerve —!" said Ron loudly.

"Shut up, all of you!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.

He was wrong, as it wasn't the dreadful feline. Theodora recognized his short, wispy hair and his round face.

"Neville?" she questioned.

He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere." Hermione informed, rather bitterly.

"How's your arm?" Harry asked.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good — well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later —!"

"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet, "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Theodora refrained from making an 'I told you so' comment as her friends looked utterly exasperated by now.

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Theodora expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky. The group sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

"That wouldn't surprise me at all." Theodora commented.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak — and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris.

Horror-struck, Theodora waved madly at the other four to follow her as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to them and they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor.

They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run, he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor. The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, with Theodora leading, not looking back to see whether Filch was following — they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, without any idea where they were or where they were going — they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"Is he gone?" Theodora steadied her breathing and quickly looked behind her.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead.

Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

"H-how a-are y-you n-not s-sweating?" he asked her.

It was true. The girl's milky white skin was gratefully unsaturated, contrasting the others who were drenched in their perspiration.

"I always run around at home, you see. I live in a Muggle village called Tuddlesmith Grove. And since I can't play Quidditch because it'll expose our kind, I had to play Muggle sports. It's rather weird to do athletics on the ground. Have you ever heard of cross country? A lot of running, that is!" Theodora said over the ragged breathing of her friends.

"I — _told_ — you," Hermione gasped, not listening to the story, and clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I — told — you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," Ron changed the subject. "As quickly as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you — Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"Let's go." was the only thing he said.

It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves the Poltergeist. Theodora found him bothersome, as he caused trouble to fall down like a thunderstorm. And sadly, he caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves — please — you'll get us thrown out."

Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Oh no, Peeves. Please don't." Theodora begged in a desperate attempt, clasping her hands together.

He only grinned at their pleading.

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves.

Big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door — and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "_Alohomora_!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open — they piled through it, shut it quickly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione pressed their ears against it, listening.

Neville and Theodora, however, had their sights on a three-headed creature in the room, whose six, wild eyes glared at them murderously.

"Cerberus." she recited from _Famous Beasts and Where to Find Them_.

Neville only whimpered, as he couldn't spit any clear words out of his mouth.

Not taking her eyes off the magnificent, yet deadly animal, Theodora's hand blindy reached for another; it turned out to be Harry's.

"What?" he whispered harshly, an ear still pressed on the door.

She only shook his hand up and down rapidly, making Harry's annoyance rise even further.

"What is it, Dora!"

Theodora didn't see Harry's eyes widen comically in realization, as his sweaty palm held hers, pulling her away from the Cerberus, with his other hand trying to grope for the doorknob.

They fell backward — Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared — all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces (excluding Theodora).

"Never mind that — pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything, all still traumatized by the scene they'd just witnessed. And, Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Theodora let out a weak chuckle at his foul attempt of lightening the mood.

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, _not_ the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up, glaring at them.

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed — or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Ron stared after her, his mouth open.

"No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you."

"It is us to blame for falling into Malfoy's trap." Theodora pointed out.

Ron grumbled. "It's not my fault. Damn Slytherins."

She patted his arm. "What do you expect from a bunch of snakes? Well, I should go and try to calm Hermione down. Night."

Theodora walked away, only to get pulled back.

"What?" she was surprised.

"Oh! Erm—sorry." Harry finally released her hand from his grasp.

They both blinked.

"It's okay." Theodora said quickly. "Um, I'm just going to go."

Harry nodded vigurously, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

When she'd fled to her dormroom, Ron stared at Harry, skeptical by what he'd just witnessed.

"What was that?" he asked.

The boy only shrugged, not looking at Ron. "Nothing."

Before the red-headed boy could say anything else, Harry was gone in a flash. But not before Ron had saw the bit of color that splashed onto his cheeks.

"It's probably just the fire." he concluded, as he went up the stairs.

* * *

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful.

Indeed, by the next morning Harry, Ron, and Theodora thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. In the meantime, Harry filled the two in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous." said Ron.

"Especially if a powerful Cerberus is guarding it." added Theodora.

"But what could it be?" Harry wondered.

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to the three, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that Ron and Harry saw this as an added bonus.

Theodora, however, did not. She tried to talk to Hermione in the morning, only getting a few brisk replies in return. She stopped trying to piece back their friendship in that moment, finding it impossible to put up with Hermione's uptight behavior any longer.

All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._

_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

_Professor McGonagall_

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even _touched_ one."

"Yeah! I've only got my dad's old Meteor Strike Three-Fifty stashed in the shed!" Theodora looked up from her copy of Witch Weekly magazine.

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

"What's the matter, Malfoy? Is that jealousy I see on your face?" Theodora sang.

He scrunched up his nose in disgust at her.

"Be quiet, Langley! Why don't you go sink your knees in bird dung?"

Before she could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys? Miss Langley?" he squeaked.

"Of course not, Professor Flitwick. Malfoy's just a bit eager to know about something that isn't any of his business." she answered, politely.

Flitwick was one of the few professors who seemed to like Theodora, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy tattled, sending the girl a death glare.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, it is," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

"Ah, yes. How lovely. But Malfoy, do refrain from putting your nose in places they don't belong, you hear? It was supposed to be a secret!" Flitwick lectured.

Harry, Ron, and Theodora headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team . . . . . ."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "It's doing us so much good."

The bushy-haired girl moved her dark brown eyes to Theodora, who didn't bother to acknowledge her like she usually did.

Hermione frowned, and marched away, her nose sticking high into the air.

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field where he'd be learning to play that night.

He bolted his dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating, and then rushed upstairs with Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

"Wait! What about Dora?" Harry asked.

The boys turned around, only to see their friend behind them.

"I thoughts girls weren't allowed to come up to the boys' dormitories." Ron commented.

"It's the other way around," she shook her head. "Boys can't go up to the girls. They aren't trustworthy."

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at the dazzling smile Theodora was shooting at them.

"Come on!" she urged, as Harry fiddled with the wrapping paper.

"Wow." Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread. Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

"Magnificant, that is. It must be a beauty in the air," Theodora gushed. "Can I please go see you fly on it, Harry?"

"Sure." he agreed, immediately regretting it.

What if he made a fool of himself in front of her? The Nimbus was a much faster broom than a school's Cleansweep. What if he slipped?

"Thanks, Harry! Don't worry, it'll be like I'm not even there!" she promised.

Harry strained a smile, trying to fight off the rampaging doubts in his head.

"I wish I could come," Ron sighed in frustration. "Stupid Binns. Giving us an essay on _The Centaur Movement of 1678_. It's not like people actually care about that stuff!"

Theodora huffed. "I actually find History of Magic rather interesting, thank you very much. And, it's not _The Centaur Movement of 1678_! It took place in _1668_!

Ron seemed over the moon as he grabbed his book, scouring through the pages. "So that's why I couldn't find it in the textbook!"

Harry couldn't stifle his laugh at the two.

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry and Theodora left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. They'd never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.

"Woah! Imagine the view from up there!" Theodora fantasized.

Harry imitated her position, his head hanging back, as he watched the tiny bright stars dance across the black canvas, creating never-ending patterns in the night sky.

"I've never seen anything like this." he breathed.

"Really?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the masterpiece above her.

They were silent as the wind brushed their faces, caressing their cheeks with a cool breeze.

"I don't have any windows to look from." Harry spoke up.

"What do you mean?"

"I live with my aunt and uncle all my life, with my cousin, Dudley. They never really liked me."

Theodora's head snapped back to him.

"I don't like them either," Harry assured her. "Ever since they gave me a cupboard to sleep in."

"A what?" she gasped.

"I spent eleven years in there. They finally moved me up to Dudley's second room, after I got my school letter. It has a window. But I couldn't stare at the stars, though. Hogwarts was days away, so I was busy running my head around the fact that I was a wizard."

A light giggle came out Theodora's mouth, making a smile appear on Harry's face as well.

"I'm just sad that I missed this all my life." he said.

Theodora moved closer, watching his melancholy expression as he appreciated the scene hovering over them.

"It's okay," she comforted. "I bet the stars here are shining even more brighter than the ones at home."

"The Dursley's aren't my home," Harry said. "Hogwarts is my home."

Theodora hummed. "It's our home. And Ron and I? We're your family."

Suddenly, a whirlwind of emotions hit Harry as the slightest gloss of saltwater glazed over his eyes. He never felt more grateful in his life.

"I—" he croaked.

"Oi! Potter!" a Scottish voice echoed through the field.

The moment vanished as Oliver Wood ran over to them, carrying a large wooden crate under his arm.

"Are you ready?" he asked, nodding to the Nimbus clutched to Harry's hand.

"Yeah." the boy lied, feeling nervous because of his two spectators.

"Who's this?" Wood narrowed his eyes on Theodora.

"This is my friend, Theodora. Dora, this is Oliver Wood, the captain."

"Hello," she waved her hand. "Um, I should go and let you practice. I'll be on the benches, okay?"

Harry's heart thumped even more when she left, feeling alone and intimidated by the tall, fifth-year Quidditch player in front of him.

"She's not going to spill out our secrets, is she?" he asked, sending suspicious glances in her direction.

"Of course not!" Harry felt offended by the assumption.

"Right," he said shamelessly. "Anyway, show me what you could do and we'll go on from there."

Too eager to fly again, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling — he swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch. The faint sound of Theodora's hands clapping from her spot at the bench made the experience even more enjoyable.

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Harry did what he was told, swooping down gently, as his feet met the ground again.

"Wow! You were so good!" Theodora caught up to the boys.

"Thanks." he said sheepishly.

"She's right, you know. Very, very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant . . . . . . you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There're seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

"This ball's called the Quaffle," said Wood. "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry recited. "So — that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.

"Oh!" Theodora snapped her fingers. "I think that's what the Muggle kids in Tuddlesmith used to call this game they play all the time during the summer holidays! Er—it's like this unusual net that hangs from a sideways ring on a stick and there's one ball! The players have to bounce the ball off the ground and shoot it in through the net!"

Oliver Wood looked absolutely intrigued.

"Anyway!" Harry wanted to change the subject.

"What? Oh! Right! Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper — I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry, who was determined to remember it all.

"And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this." He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood said. "These two are the Bludgers."

He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

"Stand back," Wood warned Harry and Theodora. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers. At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Theodora yelped as Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air — it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team — the Weasley twins are ours — it's their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So — think you've got all that?"

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Harry reeled off.

"Very good," said Wood.

"Er — have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers —"

"— unless they crack my head open."

Theodora gave him a look. "Shush, Harry! You're going to go no where with an attitude like that!"

Oliver chuckled at the blush that bloomed on the boy's face.

"Must you embarrass me in front of the Quidditch captain?" he muttered.

She only grinned as Harry nudged her with his elbow.

"Don't worry!" Wood assured. "The Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers — I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

"How lovely!" Theodora creeped in closer.

"_This_," said Wood, "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages — I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep.

"Well, that's it any questions?"

Harry shook his head.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "It's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

"Good luck." Theodora patted Harry's shoulder, stepping back.

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a few minutes later, he and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch.

The boy didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and they couldn't carry on.

"Brilliant, you were!" Theodora squealed, swinging Harry's broom in her hand as the said boy was too tired and she insisted.

"That Quidditch Cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back up to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turn out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing dragons."

* * *

**HARRY'S POINT OF VIEW:**

Perhaps it was because he was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been at school for two months. The castle felt more like his home than Privet Drive ever had.

"_Our home."_ Theodora's voice chirped in his mind, making Harry even more fond of Hogwarts than he already was, because his friends were there with him.

The lessons, too, were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Theodora (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn't spoken to them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick.

"The swish and flick!" Theodora piped up, demonstrating with her own wand.

"Oh good job!" Professor Flitwick chuckled. "Five points to Gryffindor! And saying the magic words properly is very important, too — never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

"You are such a show off," Harry whispered as they got started. "Especially in Charms. And History of Magic. And Herbology — actually, you're a show off in everything!"

"I am not! Does Transfiguration ring a bell? McGonagall stares at me like I'm the scum at the bottom of the earth!" Theodora said dramatically.

An image of McGonagall's twitching eyes with a curled lip popped into Harry's mind as he hid a laugh.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ Theodora chanted.

The white feather floated up into the air steadily, gently swaying back and forth like a boat, until it brushed the ceiling.

"Miss Langley has done it again! Another five points to Gryffindor!" Flitwick cried.

Theodora and Harry looked at each other.

"_I. Told. You. So."_ he mouthed.

"_Shut. Up."_ she returned the favor, making Harry roll his eyes at her.

Besides Theodora, the lesson was very difficult for the rest of the class. Harry swished and flicked, but the feather he was supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. At least he weren't like Seamus Finnigan, who got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it — Harry had to put it out with his hat.

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever!" Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry and Theodora as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor. "She's a nightmare, honestly."

"_Ron!_" Theodora shouted in horror. "Don't say those things!"

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face — and was startled to see that she was in tears.

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

"I can't believe you!" Theodora hissed, ditching him and Ron, as she tried to catch up to Hermione.

Harry shot a knowing look at Ron, who just slumped his shoulders, and dragged his feet to their next class.

The girls weren't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender Brown that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone, but Theodora wouldn't leave. Ron looked more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione and Theodora out of their minds.

* * *

**THEODORA'S POINT OF VIEW:**

"Hermione?"

"G-go a-away!" the normal know-it-all tone was covered by the strangled tears that was aching to burst out.

Theodora sighed, knocking on the first stall. "He didn't mean it, you know. Ron's just a boy."

"H-he's a very stupid b-boy!" Hermione stammered.

"Well, all boys are stupid. It's in their nature."

Hermione couldn't help but let out a broken laugh at that one.

"But," a sniff. "I-It's true! I-I don't got any friends! N-no one likes me!"

"I like you." Theodora countered.

"No you don't!" Hermione unlocked the stall, peeking her head out, with her crimson eyes out for all to see. "How c-could you like m-me after how I-I treated you! I kept c-criticizing you f-for everything! I e-even _ignored_ you! W-what k-kind of f-friend does those t-things?"

Theodora shook her head. "A good one. Criticizing me just means that you care."

The bushy haired girl was about to reply but was cut off when Theodora hugged her.

She heard Hermione cry, clasping her wobbling hands onto Theodora's shoulders.

"We're friends, okay? No matter what that idiot says." she commanded, linking arms with her.

Hermione broke out into a weak smile at her statement. "Okay."

"Good," Theodora dragged her to the sink. "Let's get you cleaned up for the feast. There's supposedly a lot of sweets that we could binge on."

"That would've been something to look forward to if I could eat sugar," Hermione rinsed off the wet streaks that were clinging onto her face. "My parents are dentists, you see. They've been longing for me to get braces for decades, even though I've been trying to explain to them that Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, could straighten my teeth in a flash — yuck! Do you smell that?"

The pungent odor of old socks and a toilet that nobody ever seemed to clean, made its way into the girl's bathroom.

"Gross!" Theodora found a hankerchief buried in her skirt's pocket, and held it against her nose.

Everything started to shake as loud bangs slapped against the porcelain tiles of the floor; Theodora wouldn't be surprised if it left a crack in its wake. The sound of grumbling made the girls quiver in fear.

"Is it an earthquake?" Hermione shrieked hysterically.

"I don't think so!" she squeaked.

Swallowing, she pushed both her and bushy-haired girl into one of the stalls, locking it.

"What's the matter?" Hermione held tight onto her arm.

"Be quiet!"

The stench became alive more than ever. Theodora tried to hold back the jerking in her stomach that wanted to pour out.

The earth crumbled beneath them as the sight of sickly green feet poked under the stall.

"Ack!" Hermione screamed. "What on earth—!"

"_Troll_!" Theodora yawped.

A growl later and then the two girls were splayed out on the pieces of rubble; the monster had smashed the stalls and sinks with its wooden club.

"Help!" Hermione shouted, ducking behind her hands.

Stumbling, Theodora stood up, yanking on Hermione's arm. "Go! Go! Go!"

They didn't get very far as the troll quickly grabbed Theodora by the leg.

"AH!" she screeched. "Let go of me!"

It raised its club, about to swing —

"_Theodora_!"

The troll halted, confused by all the noise. Theodora let out a breath, thankful for her saviors.

It was Hermione's voice, mixed in with two others.

"Harry! Ron! Do something!" Hermione begged, feeling too frazzled to think.

It was like the beast wanted her to suffer as she was tossed in circles, feeling more light-headed each time she was thrown into mid-air.

"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, with Theodora lazily put in his hand, to see what had made the sound. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oi! Pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Come on, run, _run_!" Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped – it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club and Theodora around, with Harry clinging on for dear life.

"AH! HELP US!" Theodora howled.

Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand — not knowing what he was going to do, he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over — and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble. Theodora shut her eyes, gritting her teeth as her head had the worse of the blow.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

It was Hermione who spoke first.

"Theodora!" she went to the blonde who was stuck in the troll's fist.

Ron and Harry quickly followed.

"Oh Merlin! Sit still, I'll help you move it! Oof! It's quite heavy! My Godric, I'm so glad you're okay. Especially from that fall. That troll, I swear! What was it doing in here anyway? Well, at least it's over. Is the thing dead, yet?" Hermione pushed away a foot-long thumb that was squeezing the life out of Theodora's neck.

"I don't think so," grunted Harry, who took care of the pointer finger. "I think it's just been knocked out."

"Ugh." Theodora groaned, pulling the rest of the troll's fingers off of her.

"Dora!" Ron exclaimed. "Are you okay? Those are some nasty marks! Gah! You're head's bleeding!"

It was true; the girl's flawless skin was battered with a collage of bruises, and her golden hair was stained crimson. Wincing, she sat herself up, with Harry's help.

"We need to get her to the hospital wing!" Hermione ordered.

"Yeah." Ron wrapped her arm around his shoulders, helping her gain balance.

"Ouch!" Theodora hissed.

"It's okay, Dora. We'll go and get you all fixed up in no time." Harry comforted, as the four trudged to the door.

"Don't forget your wand, Harry." Hermione said.

Nodding, Harry bowed down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.

"Urgh — troll boogers."

He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron, Harry. They had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were practically white.

"What were you thinking?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. They all looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. Theodora wished Ron would've put his wand down.

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall — they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione looked hesitant.

"I went looking for the troll because I — I thought I could deal with it on my own — you know, because I've read all about them."

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"Theodora followed me — she was against my decision. But then, the troll hurt her."

The staff finally took notice of the small girl and her injuries.

"Miss Langley!" McGonagall held a hand to her heart, trying to calm it down.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." Hermione continued.

Theodora sent a proud smile to her, feeling immensely dizzy. Harry and Ron, however, tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well — in that case . . . . . ." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own? Your reckless choice had resulted in your own house-mate getting dangerously wounded!"

Hermione's eyes watered. "Oh please, Professor McGonagall! Punish me as much as you'd like! Just help Theodora get better!"

"Very well. Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left.

Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, and Theodora.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

"What about Dora?" Ron asked.

"We can't just leave her like this!" Harry protested.

"Guys . . . . . . I'm fine." Theodora gurgled, feeling her vision getting darker.

"Calm down, Potter," McGonagall warned. "Professor Snape will escort Miss Langley to the hospital wing."

Snape looked disgusted, but waved his wand (_Wingardium Leviosa_!). Theodora floated off of Ron and was levitated away from them.

* * *

**3RD PERSON POINT OF VIEW:**

"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we _did_ save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her." Harry reminded him.

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout." they said and entered.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause.

"How's Theodora?" she said.

"Snape took her to Madam Pomfrey." Ron answered, looking annoyed by the fact.

Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.


	7. The Quidditch Spirit

**Hello! I know, I know, it's been a while. You see, I've lost a whole lot of motivation for this story, much to my disappointment because I was so proud of the chapters I've done so far. And also, I wrote and re-wrote this chapter so many times. Partially from dissatisfaction, and the fact that apparently, the file for chapter 7 was corrupted so all my work was deleted. Twice. So, I've learned my lesson, and re-wrote the chapter on a whole new writing application. Hopefully, a more reliable one. I'm sorry for the long wait since I know how annoying it is for authors to go off the face of the Earth. Thank you for reading my story, and I promise to update as much as I can.**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Harry Potter's still not mine. Disappointing, I know.**

**Warning: Still not happy with this, but I wanted to give you guys **_**something**__. _**Sorry for the short length. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

The squelching sound of Theodora's old boots smashing against the smooth steps of the grand staircase echoed loudly with every single stomp. Her breathing was ragged from the nimble wind nipping at her skin earlier and the cloth of her beige trousers were soaked, causing her knees to shake around uncontrollably. Luckily, she reached the Gryffindor common room before she was frozen solid. She hissed out the password, rubbing her mitten-clad hands up and down her arms. When the portrait allowed her to proceed, she practically flew inside.

Unfortunately, she couldn't savor the sudden warmth as Harry dashed across the room to her and snatched the sleeve of her winter coat.

"Dora!" he whisper-yelled. "I've got something to tell you!"

He practically hauled her by a thread of fabric all the way to the windows, where Hermione and Ron were waiting.

"Oof!" she shrieked in surprise. "Harry! What's going on?"

He opened his mouth to respond only to have Ron's voice cut him off.

"What were you doing?" he eyed her apparel consisting of a navy coat, yellow beanie, red mittens, and black boots.

Theodora didn't care enough to color coordinate her wardrobe.

"Giant squid watching!" she beamed, pulling her hat off.

"In this weather?" Hermione huffed. "It's freezing! And you've just got out of the hospital wing!"

"That was ages ago, Hermione! My head doesn't even hurt anymore! Anyways, the Black Lake was solid. Even kneeling in the snow I couldn't see a thing." Theodora sighed, disappointed.

"Can I say something?" Harry chimed in, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

She let out a laugh, placing her behind on an arm chair, and tilted her head. "Alright, alright. What's happened? I'm all ears."

"Right. Well earlier, Snape stole my _Quidditch Through the Ages_ book for some horrible reason he'd made up, like the foul old git he is — "

"Harry?" Theodora raised an eyebrow, giving him a stern look.

He smiled sheepishly, noticing he got off track. "Sorry, erm, anyway, I went to get it back, and when I entered the staff-room, I saw a huge cut on Snape's leg! You know what this means? He tried to get past the three-headed dog at Halloween!"

"It's called a Cerberus, Harry." Theodora commented.

"Brilliant," he brushed the fact off. "That's where he was going when we saw him — he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick _he_ let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Hermione's eyes were wide. "No — he wouldn't," she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

"Something important, obviously," Theodora pulled her legs to her chest. "Honestly, I'm not even sure if I _want_ to know anymore."

* * *

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast." Ron urged.

"I don't want anything." Harry grumbled.

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

Theodora tutted, taking out a package stored in her bag that was only meant to be used for emergencies.

"Treacle tart." she held out the box to Harry.

He let out a weak chuckle in response as he opened the container, taking a slice. Each bite he took gradually shrinked smaller and smaller until he was practically nibbling the pastry. He knew Theodora was only trying to help him eat, offering him his favorite dessert, but Harry felt terrible. The only thing on his mind is that in an hour's time, he'd be walking onto the field.

"Go on and eat Harry, you need your strength," Seamus said. "Seekers are usually the ones to get clobbered by the other team."

"Seamus!" Theodora sent a glare at him.

Harry's frown broke into a microscopic smile, pleased at his friend's protectiveness over him. His barely noticeable smile quickly turned upside down as he fully took in his classmate's sentence.

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching the boy pile ketchup on his sausages.

Theodora, Ron, and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, had ruined. It said _Potter for President_, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors. And, as a finishing touch, Theodora casted a spell to make the poster glow, making it exceedingly bright. ("He can definitely pick us out of the crowd now!" she said.)

In the middle of the field, Harry was mounted on his broom, feeling the palms of his hands getting damp, and silently praying that he wouldn't slip off the broom from his own sweat. He shook his head at the thought, wide-eyed. That would be absolutely _mortifying_.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood on the ground waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. Most importantly, he saw a patch of the fairest hair peeking out behind the sign, and a pair of the most warmest brown eyes he'd ever saw in his life. His heart skipped. He felt braver.

Back on the stands, Theodora grunted, standing on her toes. She knew Harry saw her, and she tried to give him an encouraging smile, only to fail since the blasted poster was covering half of her face. Cursing her shortness, she jumped on the row of seats above her, getting a better view of the game.

"Midget!" Ron teased.

His fiery locks were sticking in different directions with his cheeks a bold scarlet from the November breeze. A massive grin was plastered onto his face, the spirit of Quidditch getting the better of him. Theodora gazed at her friend fondly, happy to have someone to share this memory with. Then, she stared at Hermione, who didn't care much for sports, but was there to support Harry anyways. She suddenly gave the girl a side-hug, much to Hermione's surprise.

"Isn't this exciting?" she asked.

"I suppose." the bushy-haired girl rolled her eyes playfully.

Ron watched the scene in disgust.

"Ugh. Girls." he gagged.

"Jealous, Ron?" she giggled, letting go of Hermione and draping an arm around him instead.

He made a retching sound but didn't move from her embrace, letting it slide just for today. Because Quidditch is special. It was like the mysteries of the Cerberus, the squabbles of the Slytherins, were all gone. It was just Theodora and her mates, being regular kids and having the time of their lives, shouting nonsense and allowing themselves to just let go.

"Be quiet Ron!" she shoved him, before yelling out, "HARRY POTTER RULES!"

Roars of agreement spread throughout the stadium as Harry looked towards their direction, a sweet smile playing on his lips. And the shouts only grew louder as Madam Hooch gave a piercing blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too —"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve — back to Johnson and — no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes — Flint flying like an eagle up there — he's going to score— no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle — that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and — OUCH — that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger — Quaffle taken by the Slytherins — that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger — sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which — nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes — she's really flying — dodges a speeding Bludger — the goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Bletchley dives — misses — GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Theodora, Ron, and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Oh I really hope he does soon!" Theodora was eager for some action, watching her friend who was floating lazily in the air, contradicting is head that was snapping around in every angle, trying to spot the Snitch.

"Kept outta trouble though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

"GO ON HARRY!" Theodora screeched at the boy who was now sailing across the sky, following the fickle streak of yellow.

Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch — all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was faster than Higgs — he getting closer to the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead — he put on an extra spurt of speed — WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below — Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Down in the stands, Theodora was outraged.

"HOW DARE YOU? YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING, SLIMY PIECE OF — !"

"Dora!" Hermione squealed in horror. "Calm down! It's only a game!"

Her words were swallowed by Dean Thomas' yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In football you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't football, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid, however, was on Theodora and Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul . . . . . ."

"Jordan, I'm warning you—"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Im the air, Harry had dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal-posts — he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out — and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

Lee was still commenting.

"Slytherin in possession — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinnet — passes Bell — hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose — only joking, Professor — Slytherins score — Anoth. . . . . . "

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom . . . . . . but he can't have . . . . . . "

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic — no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

"Why aren't they calling off the game?" Theodora exclaimed in a frenzy. "He's going to be killed!"

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape — look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something — jinxing the broom," said Hermione, with Theodora adding a ("_What on earth!"). _

"What should we do?" he panicked.

"Leave it to us. Let's go, Theodora!"

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione and Theodora had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, you two." Ron muttered desperately.

The girls fought their way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; they didn't even stop to say sorry as Theodora accidentally knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, Hermione crouched down, pulled out her wand.

"Do _Incendio_!" Theodora suggested.

"I'm not going to burn him alive!" Hermione hissed.

"Fine. Do _Lacarnum Inflamare_. It's a much weaker fire, my dad uses it for candles you know — "

Hermione sent her a glare before whispering the words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her Hermione succeeded. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in Theodora's pocket, the girls scrambled back along the row — Snape would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick — he hit the field on all fours — coughed — and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference — Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results — Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

"WOOHOO!" Hermione screamed, much to Theodora's surprise.

Laughing, she grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her to the field, where Harry was in a crowd of fellow Gryffindors.

"We won!" Ron spat, looking hysterical with his flashing eyes.

"We won!" Theodora repeated, feeling just as ecstatic.

The three friends worked their way through the mob, trying to get to Harry, whose beam was larger than anyone else's in the entire castle. Immensely proud, Theodora practically tackled him, burying her head into the crook of his neck. Hermione and Ron joined in on the hug, and Harry's heart was thumping so hard out of adrenaline that even Theodora felt it.

"Good job, Harry Potter." she said.

Like always.


End file.
